


The Sator Square

by KatieHavok



Series: Chiaroscuro [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babies, Background Slash, Daisy Chaining, F/M, Fluff, Giving Birth, Graphic Description, Hospitals, M/M, Making Love, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Planned Pregnancy, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Pregnancy, Reunions, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Water Breaking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok
Summary: Newt reaches to take her hand, smoothing his thumb over her wrist. “We are only trying to take care of you,” he murmurs, and his eyes fall to her gently curving stomach before returning to her face, his lips creasing into a soft smile. “But if you are craving meat, then by all means–have meat. We’ll ensure you eat a salad later, I promise.”





	1. A Little Slice of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebeholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/gifts).



> This was only supposed to be a one-shot, the content of which can be found in the first chapter. Then I thought about it and realized that there was a lot more to tell in this universe, so I sat down and wrote the second chapter.
> 
> Written for bluebeholder as a tax payment for being part of The Enablers Club. ;)

*

“Why don’t they make kosher pepperoni?” Tina laments, looking over the menu with a jaded eye.

“There is something similar available in some places,” Newt tells her, glancing up from the stained tabletop. “I had it in Turkey, I believe, or maybe it was Israel. It’s essentially a beef summer sausage with extra spices. It’s quite tasty.”

Pervical gives them both a level look before hungrily eyeing the Meat Monsta Supreme. “That doesn’t really help us  _now_  though, does it?” He asks Newt dryly, and smirks at Tina. “Besides, weren’t you _just_ saying you wanted to cut back on your meat consumption?”

Tina rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, folding her arms over her chest to pout. “I usually get that kind of grief from  _Newt,_  not from you!”

Newt reaches to take her hand, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “We are only trying to take care of you,” he murmurs, and his eyes fall to the gentle curve of her stomach before returning to her face, his lips creasing into a soft smile. “But if you are craving meat, then by all means–have meat. We’ll ensure you eat a salad later, I promise.”

Percival takes her other hand, kissing her palm. “He’s right, you know,” he tells her, inclining his head toward Newt, who can’t contain a sarcastic eye-roll. “If the baby wants grease, then give it grease. We’re just glad to see you eating.”

Tina pulls them into a hug, kissing each in turn before reaching for her glass of water. “You’re both too good to me,” she sighs and wipes her shiny eyes. Then: “You know, I think I’d actually rather have a  _cheeseburger_. Yeah. With extra mayonnaise and pickles!”

Groaning, Percival puts his head in his hands as Newt bursts into laughter.

*


	2. I've Done The Math Enough To Know (The Dangers of Our Second Guessing)

* **  
**

Tina greets him on the main concourse, where he sets down his dusty haversack before pulling her into his arms.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Newt murmurs fervently, and takes a long moment to drink in her face, one calloused hand cradling her jaw before he leans in. The cacophony of the terminal recedes as they kiss, the embrace slow and sweet and  _perfect_  until he breaks it to press their foreheads together, his breathy voice low in her ear. “I’ve missed you, Tina.”

She grins and ruffles his crazy hair before bending to pick up his luggage, slinging it easily over her shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she promises and takes his hand to lead him out of the airport.

*

Tina pilots his boxy brown Volvo (affectionately nicknamed ‘The Suitcase’ because he’d been all but living out of it when they first met) down the Expressway as he sprawls in the passenger seat, one deeply-tanned arm slung over his eyes as he snoozes. They stop at his favorite falafel stand for a quick bite, giggling over extra hot sauce as he tells her about his misadventures in Equatorial Guinea, and taking a few orders of hummus to go before stumbling through the apartment door. **  
**

Newt sorts his dirty laundry and toiletries before joining Tina for a shower, allowing her to wash the African dust out of his back and hair before pressing her into the warm tile. They kiss and stroke languidly until it gets to be too much, snapping off the water to wrap around each other and stumble into the bedroom.

She presses him into the mattress with gentle but firm insistence, murmuring, “Please let me take care of you tonight,” before guiding his hand between her legs. Newt touches her with confidence until she tingles from head to toe, expectant heat pooling in her lower belly. She takes him in hand, a few practiced strokes bringing him to full hardness before straddling him.

“Tina,” he breathes—in awe, in worship, his gaze heavy and dark. She leans down to kiss him as she begins to move, rolling her hips sharply enough to tease her clit before bracing against his chest to take him hard. He groans, hands clamping around her hips, and she smiles while teasingly rolling her nipples between her fingers.

Tina sees the moment the shift happens, watching his face as he pants for breath before sliding his hand into the small of her back. She allows him to roll them over, covering her with his lanky frame as he cups her breasts and kisses her, setting a smooth, hard pace. She hooks her ankles into the small of his back while pressing her hips up to meet him, rewarded with a low moan when his rhythm falters and his teeth find her shoulder.

“Yes,” she gasps as a seam of familiar, insistent heat opens between them, carefully fed by his ministrations. “Oh,  _Newt_!”

He growls while moving faster, sliding his hands beneath her shoulders to claim her in a smoldering kiss as she dissolves into bliss. Coming back to herself in stages, she presses her calves against his straining ass to keep him _in_ when his climax overtakes him, her name tumbling from his lips as he presses his face into her hair.

Newt lifts his head some short time later to kiss her cheek, his hand spreading over her lower belly. “Do you think it worked?” he asks sweetly, his expression earnest.

Tina runs her fingers through his hair, endeared beyond measure. “All signs point to yes,” she says and grins. “I tested this morning and got the smiley face, so we should be in prime baby-making time.” She presses a kiss to his crown when he lays his head on her chest. “If you didn’t hit the window tonight, then Percy is sure to tomorrow.”

He hums thoughtfully before shuffling off of her, curling at her side. “Well, we can hope,” he says with a jaw-cracking yawn, and lazily circles her navel. “Either way, you are sure to be  _extraordinarily_  lovely with a baby in your belly, Tina.”

Touched, she smiles down at him and watches his eyes drift closed.

* * *

 A sleek, black government car brings Percival home less than 24 hours later.

Tina greets him at the door with a murmured hello, carefully examining his face before taking his hands. He shows a small smile at that, and she brushes her lips over his cheek while helping him out of his suit jacket.

He sheds his tie and loosens the first two buttons on his shirt while wandering into the living room, bending to kiss the nape of Newt’s neck in greeting. Newt smiles up at him in tired but obvious affection, squeezing his hand before turning back to his manuscript. Percival smirks and shakes his head as he goes in search of a cup of coffee.

It’s Newt’s night to cook, so he feeds them all a hearty meal of baked ziti and salad before shooing Percival and Tina from the room. “Go get reacquainted,” he says and kisses each of them in turn. “I’ll clean up, then I have to make sure I document all the details of my trip before I forget them, so I’ll join you two later.”

“You’d better,” Percival smirks, and chuckles when Newt’s ears turn bright pink.

Tina wears her most confident smile while walking him to the bedroom. Once there, she helps him shed his clothes and is assisted in turn, before seating him on the edge of the bed. She kneels between his thighs as she handles him, gently stroking and squeezing before using her lips and tongue to push him to the edge. He fists her hair when Tina collapses her cheeks, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock until he pulls her upright to kiss her deeply.

Percival guides her until she’s kneeling on the edge of the bed with him behind her. He sinks into a crouch to bury his face in her cunt, reciprocating with lips and tongue until she comes, knuckles white against the sheets. She reaches between her thighs to squeeze his jaw as he laps at her before chuckling darkly and standing.

He presses his heavy cock against the swell of her ass, his other hand molding to her curve. “Like this?” he asks, and she thrusts her hips back in answer, moaning his name.

Percival feeds himself into her slowly, one hand spread over the small of her back, the other between her shoulder blades to pin her to the bed. She moans at the welcomed intrusion, pressing into him as he sets a bruising pace, his hand moving to roughly fist her hair.

Tina presses her forehead into the mattress when his fingers find her clit, stroking her higher and higher until she quivers around him, moaning his name. Percival inhales sharply between his teeth, hissing “Fuck, I’m gonna come—!” when she milks him before slamming into her. She feels the hot splash of his release, the way he angles himself to press  _deep_ , and a primal triumph floods her veins as her heart soars.

He slumps over her to catch his breath before carefully withdrawing. Tina keeps her hips raised as he dabs her clean with an old undershirt, his broad hands surprisingly gentle when he brushes her hips and thighs before asking her to straighten. She winces at the strain of locked muscles, only for him to turn her in his arms, kissing her deeply.

“I enjoyed that,” he says, dark eyes glimmering. “I hope our efforts were, er,  _fruitful._ ”

Tina outlines his lips while showing a coy smile, fingers spread over his smooth jaw. “I’d expect a joke that cheesy from Newt,” she teases gently, “not from you!” She boops the tip of his nose when he rolls his eyes expressively, her smirk turning into a genuine smile. “But I have a feeling they will be.”

Percival kisses the hinge of her jaw before reaching for the blankets, pulling them back. “I hope so,” he rumbles and smoothes his hair off his brow. “Do you mind going to get Newt? I feel like I could sleep for a year, and I’d like to do it with _both_ of my lover’s here.”

She tucks the blanket around his chest before kissing the notch in his throat, tasting his pleased hum. “Go ahead and sleep if you need to. I’ll be right back.”

He makes a sleepy sound of assent as Tina goes in search of Newt, gently shutting the door behind her.

*

Newt is more than ready for bed, so Tina allows the two men some time alone as she takes a long, hot shower. Her hair is still wet when she pads naked into the shared bedroom, trying hard not to think about her inevitable return to the 67th precinct the following morning, only to be greeted by the sight of Newt and Percival touching lightly, foreheads tipped together as they kiss in lingering brushes.

“I hope you saved some room for me,” she teases, and they part to hold their arms out to her, welcoming her into their shared embrace.

They’re all too weary from work and the late hour to make love properly, but they find other ways to please: Percival suckles her breasts as she strokes him, and Newt wiggles between her legs to flick his tongue over her as she buries her fingers in his hair. A bit of careful rearranging sees her taking Percival’s cock into her mouth when he bends to wrap his lips around Newt, and they form a pleasurable feedback triangle until she comes, her hips shuddering as she coats Newt’s face with moisture.

He suckles lightly on her clit as she moans, causing Percival’s hips to jolt erratically until he presses into her mouth as she swallows, groaning her name. Newt watches them both, his lips sliding along her inner thigh until he gently but firmly pushes Percival’s head away, taking himself in hand to spill over his stomach.

They tangle together afterward, blankets pulled to their chin as Newt tucks his head into the space between her neck and shoulder and Percival clasps her hand in both of his.

“Goodnight,” he says, and she kisses his forehead as his face relaxes.

“Love you both,” Newt murmurs, and Tina uses her free hand to push a lock of hair out of his eyes as he breathes in slow, even pulls.

“Sweet dreams,” Tina whispers and closes her eyes when Newt murmurs her name and Percival squeezes her hand.

* * *

 A loud, wet _pop!_ wakes Tina well before dawn, pulling her from broken sleep.

Sitting up is a process, one she carefully performs as she heaves her bulk over the side of the bed. Percival and Newt may openly adore her waddle, but she can find nothing cute about it as the constant ache in her lower back sinks its teeth in, much more painful than usual as she gropes her way to the bathroom, flinching away from the harsh fluorescent lights before settling onto the toilet.

She sighs as she relieves herself, grumbling at the seemingly minuscule amount before cocking her head to the side. There’s a steady, wet sound coming from…somewhere, and it isn’t until she reaches between her legs to wipe, her hand coming away drenched that she realizes the noise is coming from her.

Tina leaps to her feet with an agility she would have heretofore said was impossible, and turns to squint into the pink-streaked toilet bowl.  _Shit_ , she thinks clearly, only to moan when the pain in her back shifts suddenly to her front, another gout of moisture flowing down her legs.  _Shit, shit, **shit** , I’m not  **ready**  for this!_

Another cramp works its way through her, hardening her lower belly and thighs. Tina glances down at herself frantically, looking over the prominent swell of her heavy belly before making her laborious way to the shower. Lukewarm water flows soothingly over her skin, distracting her from the worst of the pain and apprehension as a sharp, amniotic scent fills the air. She allows most of her waters to drain before scrubbing up, even remembering to use the sterile sponge her obstetrician had given her in case of c-section before wrapping an oversized towel around herself.

The bathroom door swings open when she’s in the middle of brushing her teeth, just as another powerful contraction tears through her. Newt’s sleep-disheveled head pokes around the door jam just in time to watch her moan and hunch over in pain, her hand automatically cradling her stomach as something shifts wetly inside her. He’s at her side instantly, one arm at her shoulders to take her weight, the other sliding around her waist as she curls into him reflexively.

“How long have they been this bad?” He asks, his voice amazingly calm. “Have you been timing them?”

“I just woke up!” Tina bursts out, riding out the worst of the pain before straightening. His hands hover when she spits into the sink before rinsing her mouth.  “I got up to pee, and when I sat on the toilet, my water broke. Then the pains started and they’re already  _awful_!”

“That sounds like labor to me,” he murmurs and shows an amazingly sunny smile. “You’ll be a mother by the end of the day, most likely. Tell me, Tina, how do you feel?”

“I feel like I’m  _in labor,_ ” she grouches, but she’s between contractions and familiar adrenaline has kicked in, making her buzz in nervous anticipation. She can’t hold it against him when he makes sure she’s steady on her feet before darting from the room with a promise to bring her clothes and her hospital bag, calling excitedly for Percival.

*

In the weeks leading up to giving birth, Tina had been of the mind that Percival, used as he is to blood and the horrors of war, would be the stoic one, hovering by her side as Newt fretted and paced. Now, sweaty, exhausted, and wrung out, she clings tenaciously to the grounding realization of how very  _wrong_  she was as wave after wave of pain buries her.

“That was a big one,” Newt murmurs in his lowest, most soothing tone, turning away from the monitors to regard her with calm eyes. His capable hands, used to cradling poached, orphaned and abandoned animals, resettle in the small of her back to rub away the pain as she moans and sways, floating in the peaceful calm between contractions. She watches Percival pace the length of the room, his usually pristine hair disheveled from running his hands through it, the tail of his white shirt hanging over his tailored slacks until her body hardens again and the breath is squeezed from her lungs.

She’s peripherally aware of someone wearing scrubs crouching between her thighs to check her progress, but she’s too lost in the sharp, glassy pains to pay much attention to them until Newt presses his lips to the cup of her ear. “You’re in transitions,” he tells her soothingly, sliding his hands over her skin in long, soothing strokes as she trembles. “This won’t be pleasant but Percy and I are here, we aren’t going anywhere, and we’ll help you through this. You’re doing so well, Tina.”

Tina recognizes Percival’s smooth hand in her own, his strained, pale face filling her vision until she closes her eyes. “I don’t feel so good,” she murmurs, sudden sweat prickling her skin. Newt gets a basin beneath her head just in time, holding her sodden hair away from her face as she wretches.

“You’re all right,” he tells her, his hand running a broad circuit between her shoulder blades. “Almost done, now.” Percival squeezes her hand in silent solidarity as another elemental  _shift_  happens deep in her gut, and she can breathe again when the trembling passes and she is suddenly revitalized, limbs filling with renewed strength.

A nurse sweeps away the basin after Newt helps her rinse her mouth. Tina has just enough time to smile at them both before another contraction buries her, the urge to  _bear down_  overwhelming. She moans and fights it instinctively, not quite ready for that final step despite her agony. The pain comes again, more insistently this time—only this is a pain with a _purpose_ , this is pain that will see new life into the world, and she surrenders to it as the room bursts into activity.

Tina and Newt had been first: Tina who had nearly arrested him outside a bank; Newt who had ushered her into his life; Tina who had invited him into her home and her bed; Newt who had helped ground and save Percival from his demons before bringing him into their embrace. And so, it is only right that Newt’s child is first in this too, the baby a tiny, wrinkled cherub that comes into the world with its precious, rosebud lips pressed into a disapproving moue, one tiny fist curled beside its head.

Tina catches a glimpse of delicate pink skin and abundant red hair and holds her breath until the baby voices one small, almost timid cry. Profound relief causes her to slump into his chest, turning her head to find Newt absolutely  _beaming_ , tears flowing unchecked down his cheeks as he kisses her over and over again, murmuring his adorations.

“Daddy,” a nurse asks, holding out a tiny white bundle, the umbilicus still pulsing gently. “Would you like to hold your baby?”

Newt reaches for it with a tender eagerness that makes Tina’s eyes prickle, expertly folding the bundle against his chest, staring adoringly into the tiny, perfectly new face. “Hello, there,” he breathes and pushes back a familiar red curl with shaky fingers.

Tina leans in to kiss the smooth, warm forehead before tipping her head against Newt’s shoulder. “What is it?” she asks him and holds her breath as he carefully parts the blankets to unfasten one side of the diaper, taking a quick peek before gasping.

“A girl,” Newt says in disbelief and closes his eyes. “Tina, Percival—we have a  _daughter_.”

“I’m so happy,” she whispers, and brushes her mouth over his as Percival watches tensely and the obstetrician comes over to check her IV line, his forehead creasing into a frown.

“Are you still having contractions?” He asks in his forward, no-nonsense manner. “If not, we’re going to have to introduce some hormones to get them going again. You’re not done here yet, or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” Tina murmurs with a faint, exhausted smile. “And I’m not—” She cuts herself off with a groan when her entire lower half seems to surge, all at once, back bowing off the mattress. Newt shifts their daughter into a football hold seemingly on instinct, his other arm hooking behind her knee to support her leg as she moans—a low, drawn-out, pained sound.

Percival starts visibly before striding across the room, giving them both a determined smile while supporting her other leg. He keeps his eyes averted as the whole process is repeated, until a great heave and triumphant cry brings forth his legacy, surfing into the world on a tide of blood.

Tina sags into the mattress in relief that it’s  _over_ , only to struggle upright at the ensuing silence. The entire room seems to hold its breath as nurses huddle at the bedside to scrub the baby with towels, it’s dark hair and blue-white hand the only visible feature until a tiny oxygen mask is brought over. There’s a low murmur of voices when Newt, Tina, and Percival share a stricken, horrified look—only for them to turn as one when a lusty cry breaks the tension.

“ _There_  we are,” the nurse from before croons, and Tina catches another glimpse of an arm—now healthy pink and waving angrily—before a diaper and blanket are expertly wrapped around the baby. The baby’s cries increase in pitch as it’s swaddled, and Newt shifts their sleeping daughter to cradle her head, blocking her ears while kissing Percival and Tina in turn.

A dark-eyed nurse approaches them after attaching a heart-shaped monitor to the baby’s chest. “We’re going to have to take him up to the nursery to check his vitals and for observation,” she explains calmly. “Daddy can go with him if he’d like, or you all can stay here. It’s up to you but we have to move fast.”

Percival looks between them, his expression wavering. “I—” he starts, and gulps. “I don’t—”

Tina touches his cheek as Newt reaches for his hand. “It’s okay,” she soothes, wincing when a retinue of nurses press on her stomach to help deliver the afterbirth. “Go with our son. Newt and I will be fine here.”

Newt eyes Percival carefully before kissing Tina’s forehead. “Actually, love,” he argues gently, passing their daughter to her. She holds her to her chest, feeling the baby nuzzle her skin before sighing. “I’d like to go with Percy and allow you and our girl a chance to bond if you don’t mind. I’ve been holding her this entire time and I think she’d like to be with her mother.”

Tina eyes the obstetric and pediatric nurses, who nod comfortingly while making shooing gestures. “Okay,” she agrees, ignoring the nervous tightening in her breast. “You two go, and we’ll stay here. Please, just…make sure our son is okay.”

Both men leverage themselves off the bed before bending to kiss her. “He will be,” Newt promises, and she can see the hard certainty in his eyes. “After all, he’s got you for his mother, and Percy for his father. He’s a born fighter.”

Percival still looks doubtful so she squeezes his wrist reassuringly before kissing his knuckles. “Go,” she says, and watches her men lace hands before, with one last look back at her, following their son up to the nursery.

She reclines against the pillows as nurses flit around her, cleaning up her inner thighs before tucking an absorbent pad beneath her. “You’ll have to move around soon,” one of them tells her, “but go ahead and rest for now. You’ve earned it.” Tina nods as they check her IV and hand her a buzzer before leaving the room.

Left to her own devices, her ears ringing with the sudden silence, Tina dips her chin to watch her daughter, sleeping soundly against her chest. “Well, what do you think of that?” she asks in a whisper and cradles the baby’s tiny, delicate skull, heavy with coarse red hair. “Yeah, you’re a Scamander all right, but don’t worry—you’ll brother will be back soon, and he’s a  _Graves_.”

The baby comes awake with a low mewl, snuffling into her skin while rooting around. Tina carefully helps her find her way to the tit, shifting to allow the tiny mouth to wrap around her nipple before sucking on instinct. Deep, soothing waves work through her belly as her daughter nurses, falling naturally into a rhythm, and Tina closes her eyes as a sense of profound peace fills her.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she muses aloud, and smiles up at the ceiling, in the direction she knows the nursery to be while settling in to wait for the return of her boys.

*


	3. Killer Thriller

*

It’s a rare evening when there are no pressing demands upon their time, each of them lost to individual pursuits. 

Tina scrolls through her newsfeed as Percival plays Candy Crush with Theodore, whose nose is buried in  _Where The Red Fern Grows_ , sprawled over his lap. Newt flicks disconsolately through the television channels, absently ruffling little Corey’s pigtails as she puts the finishing touches on a drawing of her teddy, affectionately nicknamed Niffler.

A flash of red, black and green causes Newt to hit the return button, landing on MTV Classic. The screen fills with the sight of Michael Jackson and a troupe of zombies dancing disjointedly as he informs a woman that there’s no possible chance of escape.

“Ooh,  _Thriller_ ,” Tina says, glancing up with a grin. “ _That_  takes me back.” She cocks an eyebrow in Newt’s direction as he subconsciously rolls his shoulders, fingers already twitching to the beat. “Didn’t you brag once that you knew this dance?”

“I  _never_  brag,” Newt corrects her, gently extracting himself from Corey’s side to stand. She glances up to watch him from beneath auburn bangs, eyes round with curiosity. “I merely said that it’s the first dance I ever learned and one of my better ones. That’s all.”

Tina folds her arms over her chest, tilting her head in challenge. “Uh-huh,” she smirks, “and yet, you’ve never demonstrated for us. Now, why  _is_  that?”

Newt bounces up on tiptoes, stretching his arms over his head. “Never had the opportunity, I suppose,” he shoots back and drops her a wink while hitting rewind on the remote. “Besides, you know I specialize in mating dances; pop isn’t really my thing.”

Percival, who’s been watching the exchange with interest, and Tina guffaw as Newt bounces in place and loosens his limbs, the beginning third of Thriller playing in the background. He hums under his breath as the children blink at him in wonder, waiting for the first opening notes of the dance sequence to ring out before striking a dramatic pose.

“Daddy!” Corey cries, clapping excitedly as Newt throws himself into the dance. 

Tina exchanges a wondering glance with Percival, feeling the smile spreading across her face; while it’s obvious that Newt is rusty, his movements not quite as refined as those on the screen, it’s also clear that he  _knows_  this dance, and he performs it with a certain unholy glee that puts Tina in mind of other, more  _primal_ activities.

Percy feels the same, if the color riding high on his cheeks is any indication, and she struggles to bring her thoughts back into PG territory as Corey prances out to join her father.

“Teach me, Daddy,” she cries, wearing Newt’s slightly lopsided grin when she tugs on his hand. Newt stops mid-shuffle to throw out his arms stiffly and moan, tottering after her on rigid legs as she shrieks and darts away, Niffler securely tucked under one arm. The sound of wild laughter and a slamming door comes a few seconds later, and Tina and Percival share a laugh when Newt returns to the living room wearing a sheepish smile.

“Er–I’ll teach her later,” he says, reaching for the remote. “I need to practice a bit more. Halloween’s in two weeks, who knows–maybe she’ll want to dress up as a zombie!”

Theodore, quiet and observant up to now, pipes up in his gruff little voice. “Will you teach me too, Daddy Newt?” he asks, marking his place in his book with one finger.

Newt smiles, his eyes shining. “Of course I will,” he promises and ruffles the boy’s hair affectionately before bending to kiss his forehead.

*


End file.
